


Dishonored

by ReneeoftheStars



Series: Teyla Marin and Gida Tiatkin [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 07:31:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12476484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeoftheStars/pseuds/ReneeoftheStars
Summary: Padawan Teyla Marin deals with the ramifications of her Master's dismissal from the Jedi High Council.





	Dishonored

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for finish-the-clone-wars' writing Wednesday prompt: Exile  
> I ended up deviating from the prompt, but oh well.

The whispers followed her throughout the halls of the Temple, and she couldn’t escape them.

Padawan Teyla Marin felt dozens of eyes on her as she made her way through the courtyard. She felt them whenever she left her quarters; in the mess, in lessons, in the hanger bays, everywhere, everywhere. Eyes raked her, wondering if she had the same flaws as her Master, wondering if she would disgrace herself as he had. The disquiet around her was palpable, the hesitation obvious. The air was so thick with the breaths that remained after they murmured among themselves, she thought she might choke on them.

Oh yes, they were courteous when they spoke with her. The Masters that instructed her few lessons treated her as they always had, but they possessed an extra note of gentleness, of special concern. Her friends still spent time with her, but it had not escaped her notice that they did not actively seek her out. Some divide had sprung up between them. They took great pains to avoid speaking speaking about both the Council and her Master.

It didn’t matter that the High Council had assured the Jedi that Master Sifo-Dyas’s removal from the Council was not dishonorable. It didn’t matter that he retained his title of Master, or that he would continue to be sent on missions as he had.

Radical, they called him. Extremist. Teyla wanted nothing more than to shout them down, all the low voices and wary glances. Master Sifo-Dyas saw a threat and proposed a solution, and the Council refused to even consider the possibility. Though he tried to keep his emotions to himself, Teyla could feel the older Jedi’s indignation, his hurt.

She passed two human Padawans a year or so younger than her. She recognized them from some lesson they shared several years ago. They appeared to glance at her, then their eyes slid away, as though they hadn’t seen her. She bit back a remark and sped up, letting out a pent-up breath.

Her peers had proved to be the loudest part of this whole uproar. Though perhaps “loudest” was gratuitous. Most had stopped speaking to her. If they didn’t stare at her as she passed, they ignored her completely. She felt isolated, shut out of normal Temple life. And she felt further distanced by her own uneasy thoughts.  

Sifo-Dyas had shared his visions with her. An all-consuming war that would plunge the galaxy into years of darkness, at the mercy of the Sith. An enemy army comprised of machines, unendingly produced by the hundreds. Why _shouldn’t_ the Republic have a standing army? Why should they wait until the threat was upon them? Did they imagine that so many soldiers could be gathered and trained while worlds burned? Was the Senate actually taking measures to observe relations between its members to curtail the possibility of war?

Of course, she dare not utter her thoughts. That’s what the others were waiting to hear. They wanted to know if her Master’s far-reaching ideas had worn off on her. Would she, too, yell in the Council chamber, insinuating that the other members were short-sighted fools? Teyla bit her lip and turned a corner. She didn’t quite believe _those_ words had been uttered, but the sentiment was there.

And the rest of the Order seemed to know it. If Jedi were cautious around her, they were downright brusque to her Master. They didn’t quite shun him, but it was enough disregard that when added to the insult of being dismissed from the Council, Sifo-Dyas had devolved.

She couldn’t quite explain it, and she wouldn’t admit it aloud, but her Master seemed… less. Less than he was. His brow furrowed more often. He stared at nothing without meditating, without purpose. His visions called to him, distracted him. Teyla had trouble reaching him sometimes.

And it made her feel alone.

She’d always had friends here, the Temple had always been her home, she’d felt warm and safe– and suddenly it all felt cold. She’d never felt out of place here, but now she questioned if she belonged. She felt…other.

Stepping through a high archway, she briefly closed her eyes drew in a long breath. The scent of aeon-pine and burlow ferns tickled her nose, and the rushing of small streams hushed her thoughts. Teyla made her way down a narrow stone path, the Room of a Thousand Fountains sighing around her. Here, at least, she was content with the solitude.

He was right where she knew he’d be, cross-legged on a slab of rock behind one of the laughing waterfalls. His eyes remained closed, but he adjusted himself so there was room next to him. Teyla sidled past the spilling water and sat next to him, fingers trailing in the water.

They sat in silence for what may have been hours, drifting in and out of meditation. At some point, Teyla felt a twinge in the Force and looked around at her Master. Sifo-Dyas’s mouth curved in a frown, eyebrows drawn together, eyelids flickering as his eyes darted around beneath them. She raised a hand and rested it on his shoulder, sending a current of the Force through him, hoping to steady him, comfort him. His breathing eased and his expression relaxed. He looked so old.

Teyla returned her hand to the water, watching the ripples from her fingers disappear under the weight of the waterfall. The two of them would not be discredited in the eyes of the Jedi forever, she felt with certainty. Soon things would return to normal, and the wary looks would dim and the cold shoulders would grow warm again. The Council would realize their error and reinstate Master Sifo-Dyas as a sitting member, and actually consider his proposal. And until then, Master and Apprentice had each other to lean on.

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place 11 years before Phantom Menace, when Teyla Marin is 17 and apprenticed to Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas.  
> I wrote this based on the assumption that being dismissed from the Jedi High Council is a really big deal. I imagine it almost never happens, and it's easy to believe that even trained Jedi would speculate about it. Of course, that speculation and the resulting distancing would come across as being rather ostracizing. I imagine that the loss of that support network may have contributed to Sifo-Dyas's willingness to take such drastic action and single-handedly instigate the creation of the clones.


End file.
